project 365 | days 159 thru 174

Like I mentioned in my post yesterday, today is another Project 365 post.

To catch up on all my Project 365 posts—starting at day 1—you can go here, scroll down to the bottom and select older posts. Today we’re starting with Day 159. As always, click on images to enlarge.

Day 159, if you’ve ever tailgated at an SEC football game, then you’ve most likely played cornhole before. If you haven’t attended an SEC game, then I feel sorry for you. Why? Because we know how to party. When I recently went to Side Porch Steakhouse in Bartlett for my brother’s birthday and saw they had a mini cornhole set up on their bar, well…I fell in love with the place all over again (great steaks!). Then, I taught my four-year-old nephew how to play. It’s all about educating the next generation. Day 160, I know I’ve previously mentioned my weakness for Barnes & Noble. I might as well write them a check every other week for half of my paycheck—that’s close to how much money I spend there. Though, since my favorite B&N Bookstore closed in January 2011, I now buy most of my books online. It’s always exciting to come home and see a B&N box waiting for me on my porch.


Day 161, I love my neighborhood (Cooper Young). There’s so much to do, so many places to eat and grab a drink…all within walking distance of my front door. Kristen and I take advantage of this often, choosing this night to venture down to for sushi. Delicious. Day 162, Kristen has a talent for sniffing out yard sales. It’s like psychic magnetism or something. I can just put her on her leash, say Go! and within a few minutes…BAM! There we are on a stranger’s lawn full of fantastic treasures like this lovely trunk. Okay, not really. I don’t actually have to use a leash anymore. My sister’s way better trained than that.


Day 163 and 164 are both artwork pieces I made for Cooper Young Festival. Original acrylic paintings on canvas that I believe are both 16″ x 20″. Abstract guitar and Ticklin’ the Ivories.


Day 165, happy 27th birthday to me. Kristen and I took off work and trekked up to Nashville to see one of my favorite singer/songwriters perform at The End. Mr. Jay Brannan. His voice + guitar playing was even more beautiful in person and absolutely worth the 3 hour drive. Day 166, my family meets up for dinner for everyone’s official birthdays. Since I was out of town on the 21st, we waited and met up at Boscos the next day where my sister surprised me with this custom made cake to resemble three of my favorite books (Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief, Dean Koontz’s Odd Thomas & John Green’s The Fault in our Stars). Don’t I have the best sister in the world? And in case you have an upcoming celebration in need of a cake, this lovely piece of work was made by the supremely talented Ashley from BadAsh Bakery. I highly recommend her.


Day 167, I bleed Maroon & White. And now—thanks to a little birthday present from my Mom—so does my yard. Hail State. Day 168, more Cooper Young Festival art prints, which are also currently available in my Etsy Shop. Elvis Presley + Typography = great art prints.


Day 169, I waited until the weekend to celebrate my birthday with my friends and we started it off right early Saturday morning at Memphis’ very own trampoline park. This is what Christine, Cory, Kristen, myself, Laura and Jennifer looked like after one hour of jumping our asses off. We later met up with more friends for dinner, then drinks at Celtic Crossing, where I apparently challenged a guy to a dance off. In other words, I had a fantastic birthday. Day 170, I bonded with my new duvet cover (thanks Momma & Kristen) as I thoroughly enjoyed a lazy Sunday of doing absolutely nothing but laying in bed with Mulligan.


Day 171, more Cooper Young Festival art. More original acrylic paintings on canvas. Day 172, my parents’ dog, Bogey, is a beast. A 180 lb. adorable beast. He is so fluffy I could die.


Day 173, when I work on my freelance graphic design, I can’t just sit there on my computer and design or I get bored and have trouble concentrating. So, I usually have a million other things going on at the same time. Thankfully, I invested in a huge iMac screen that allows me to concurrently work in Photoshop, Illustrator, watch Hulu (Prison Break) and track my Twitter feed. I have no idea how this makes me work better and faster, but I swear it does. To each his own, right? Day 174, I call this one Big Ass Blank Canvas. 3 1/2′ x 6′ of white space just waiting for inspiration. Once I get the images up on my portfolio/art tab, you’ll get to see what I actually turned it into. Until then, you can see a small blurb of it in one of the four random headers I now have displayed at the top of this blog (viewable in desktop version only). Hint? I now call it Big Blue.


That’s 16 and done. I’ll be working hard this weekend editing the images of my artwork to update my portfolio, so check back next week. Have a great weekend!

– lindsey archer

when i grow up

When I was young, I specifically remember wanting to grow up to be a writer.

I have this vivid memory of creating a book stand with an old childhood friend. Seven or eight years old at the time, we thought we were geniuses, sure we had come up with the Next Great Idea. While our peers were busy squeezing out cups of lemonade to sell for 25¢ on the neighborhood corner, we were up to our elbows in Xerox paper and Crayola colored pencils, eagerly writing and illustrating our own books. After bounding them with her parents’ stapler, we set up shop on the sidewalk in front of her house, ready to make our millions.

Spoiler alert: our ingenious idea didn’t exactly take the publishing industry by storm. While we did sell a few books—one to an indulgent neighbor, a couple to her mom and probably one to her little sister after a bribe or two—I don’t remember being disappointed in not fulfilling our bestseller potential. Like many things as a child, our bookstand was a fad. It didn’t take long for us to forget about it and move on to bigger and better things. Like the bedazzler.

For me—as I’m sure like many of you—the answer to “What do you want to be when you grow up?” was constantly evolving. After winning an art contest in grade school, I traded my writing career aspirations for those of becoming an artist. After watching the Magnificent Seven take home gold for Team USA in ’96, I was sure—as a 10-year-old not currently enrolled in gymnasticsI had what it took to become an olympic gymnast. Some time in high school, I decided biomedical engineering + medical school was the right choice for me. While covered in hardened cookie dough and earning minimum wage from my local mall’s bakery, the thought of some day becoming a rich doctor was extremely appealing. Then I got to college and realized I didn’t actually like science (thank you, Momma & Daddy, for your patience).

So, yeah. Growing up, I never replied to that age old question with the same answer. As my hobbies and interests changed, so did my professional career goals. Even today, nearly six years into said professional career (holy crap I’ve been working a big-girl job for almost 6 years excuse me while I figure out where all that time went), I don’t have a definitive answer.

Don’t get me wrong. I count myself lucky that I am currently employed and actually enjoy what I do. I still get excited when I design a new poster or advertisement, often giddily pulling up a picture on my phone to show my sister at home. Yet, being a full-time graphic designer means I only get to write on my downtime. And I really love writing. I sometimes can’t help but think…wouldn’t it be fulfilling to make my living by writing every day? What would that feel like? To be able to wake up and have writing as my only responsibility? To write for a living? To be able to answer that question with Oh, I’m a writer? Though, if my writing was to switch from hobby to career…would I still enjoy it as much? Wouldn’t I miss graphic design?

Aaaaaand…back and forth. And back and forth.

Then I have my paintings and other art to think about. With Cooper Young Festival in less than a week, all my free time over the past few months has been dedicated to the booth my sister and I will have this Saturday (Booth D-23). Instead of trying to fit in time for my writing, I’ve been painting and crafting. And guess what? I forgot how much I love to paint. And while my sister and I have only joked about the idea…the concept of us opening up our own shop to sell our work becomes more appealing by the day (as long as I don’t have to be in charge of my taxes because all those forms stress me out).

So, what do I want to be when I grow up? Ha. Good question. When is the deadline for my answer? It can’t have already passed, right? Because at 27, I don’t feel grown-up. I feel like I’m just beginning. How long before I actually have to pick one thing and commit? Because the thing that scares me most of all…what if I pick the wrong one?

Seriously. What if?

– lindsey archer

P.S. – Cooper Young Festival 2012 is THIS Saturday, September 15th. If you’re planning on attending, please stop by Booth D-23 (we’re in the Congo Church parking lot) to say hello and/or introduce yourself. If you live in the Memphis area and are NOT planning to attend, stop being boring.

project 365 | days 127 thru 142

I am behind. WAY behind. On everything, it seems. This post was supposed to go up a week and a half ago, so I send my apologies. Better late than never, right? No? My bad.

To catch up on all my Project 365 posts—starting at day 1—you can go here, scroll down to the bottom and select older posts. Today we’re starting with Day 127 (I still can’t believe I’m this far into it). As always, click on images to enlarge.

Day 127, yes, I am one of those jack-asses who brings their own koozie to the bar. Here, I was representing Swanky’s Taco Shop while at one of my favorite local haunts, Young Avenue Deli. I also like to leave Swanky’s Taco Shop & Cheffie’s Café pens in random places for people to pick up. I think it’s rather smart. Guerilla marketing at its finest, people. Day 128, I finally designed me some personal business cards, being that I’m a graphic designer and should probably carry some of these on me at all times. Which reminds me…I need to order my personal business cards (See? I told you I was behind).


Day 129, my sister and I have turned our house into a Cooper Young Festival Workshop, a.k.a. “The Archer Lab,” a.k.a. OHMIGOD there is dust, paint & crap EVERYWHERE. One of the reasons I’m so behind on everything is because most of the hours outside of 9 to 5 10 to 6 have been devoted to All. Things. Cooper. Young (Booth D-23). That’s a lot of painting, designing, sanding, refinishing, etc. Sometimes I get restless. And when that happens, I apparently like to pretend my dining room table is like those at the Macaroni Grill. Day 130, another graphic design typography print made with scrabble tiles (that I previously blogged about here). This print is also available in my Etsy Shop here.


Day 131, my cousin recently visited, along with her three little boys. Add them to my two nephews and we had five boys under the age of seven running thru my parents’ house, which is the reason for the small toy store that developed overnight in their living room. Hanging out with crazy psycho hyper children my cousins & nephews serves only to reiterate my stance on not wanting my own children. I love them all dearly, but if I had to be around that much jumping, screaming, little-children-television-watching, human-jungle-gymming and sugar-induced-hyperactivity 24 hours a day, my head would explode. Day 132, here is one of my latest paintings, from blank canvas to almost finished. Yes, it is still sitting on my easel exactly as I left it here. Eventually it will have an abstract guitar on it. Unless I change my mind (I seriously need a few hours added into my day to get everything done before September 15th).


Day 133, my sister and I have mastered the art of distressing wood. Or, as she likes to call it, making things shabby chic. These are more pieces that will be available at Booth D-23 at CY Fest. Day 134, my family gets together for dinner at least once a week. The best meals are when my dad cooks out on the grill. Having worked in the restaurant industry for countless years, he is a ridiculously phenomenal cook. And I’m not just saying that because he’s my Dad and can cook better than yours. Filet mignon wrapped in bacon? My mouth is watering just looking at those.


Day 135, my siblings and I grew up with a trampoline in our backyard. Mostly unbeknownst to my parents, we used it to do a lot of crazy shit when we were younger. My sister and I pretending we were the next Olympic gymnasts by creating countless routines full of flips and tricks? Check. Jumping from the much higher back deck down onto the trampoline? Using said trampoline as an extended diving board into the pool? Having my older brother and his friends compete to see who could bounce my tiny ass (I was a very small child way back when, especially compared to my brother who is 6 yrs my senior) higher? Check. Check. And check. I seriously have no idea how we managed to not kill ourselves. Or, at least break a few bones. I also have no idea how I could spend practically the entire day jumping out routines without dying of exhaustion. It was a sad day when that old trampoline finally bit the dust. Though, do not fret. In case you didn’t know, Memphis has its very own trampoline park. I didn’t last 10 minutes before I had to sit down and catch my breath. OHMIGOD it was So. Much. Fun. Who knew I could still do a back layout (though not nearly as well as I used to)? My birthday is next week and I want to take all my friends there for a birthday celebration. Am I too old to do that? Who cares. I’m totally going to. Who’s with me? Day 136, Elvis Week has descended upon Memphis, TN. I have yet to venture downtown, so I’ve only come across one impersonator so far this week. But, like I blogged previously, I celebrated in my own way by designing some Elvis Presley Art Typography prints just in time for Elvis Week. You can see them all in my Etsy shop here.


Day 137, my bedtime has slowly been getting later and later as I try and catch up on everything. As you can see, Mulligan hasn’t been too thrilled with my new sleeping schedule. He sleeps on a pillow right by my head and this is the latest look he gave me when I finally slipped into bed, well beyond midnight. In case you don’t speak cat, it says I will cut you. Day 138, being that I’m one of the only artists/designers I know that does not own a sketch book to jot down all my fabulous ideas as they come to me, I finally caved and bought one. 22 days later, I’ve used seven pages. Progress, people!


Day 139, Multiple Sclerosis (MS) is a horrible disease, which my mother was diagnosed with at the age of 29. To help do our part, my sister and I joined her for the annual Women Against MS Luncheon, where I bought us these lovely T-shirts. It was a wonderful afternoon and I’d like to sincerely thank everyone who contributes to the fight against MS. Day 140, the Opening Ceremony for the London 2012 Olympics. We joined our friends for a watch party, full of country themed food and occasion appropriate drinks. I’d like to thank Kelly and Casey for this special commemorative cocktail: Michael Phelps peed in the pool. Don’t ask my why it’s blue. Maybe Phelps is so patriotic, he pisses one of the colors of our flag? GO TEAM USA! Who cares, it was delicious and I’m so sad the Olympics are already over. At least I have football to look forward to.


Day 141, after our late night celebrating the start of the Olympics (GO TEAM USA!), Kristen, Aud & I went down the street to recover at Young Avenue Deli. As you can see in this pic, we might have been a tad de-hydrated due to the previous night’s festivities. Yes, those are drinks for only three people. Our waiter smirked at our two orders of cheese sticks and one big ass quesadilla, replying with a side eye and a “where did y’all go last night?” Team USA is all about sacrifice, y’all. Sacrifice. Day 142, more wood art for CY Fest. Are you tired of me saying that, yet? Too bad. We’re still 30 days out from September 15th. I have plenty more where that came from!


That’s 16 and done. I have a busy weekend ahead of me, but wish me luck that I can find time to manage a few blog posts before Monday. One can hope, right?

– lindsey archer

project 365 | days 111 thru 126

I’m taking a break from all the Cooper Young Festival art updates for a different kind of update.

Yes. I’m still plugging away on Project 365. Since I’m way behind on the recap, there will hopefully be another Project 365 post later this week. To catch up on all my Project 365 posts—starting at day 1—you can go here, scroll down to the bottom and select older posts. Today we’re starting with Day 111. As always, click on images to enlarge.

Day 111, I think these types of towels are manufactured to see how many times they can make adults go “awwwwwwwwwwwww!” Like, you can’t look at my little nephew here and not absolutely fall in love with him. Unless you have no soul. And this just in: Babies. Weigh. A. Lot. I can’t hold that little chunker for more than five minutes before I have to pass him along to someone else. What? I told you. I’m not good with babies. Day 112, dinner and drinks at Slider Inn, whose slogan reads, “Nice and Easy.” Slider Inn. Nice and Easy. There are so many different ways I could go with that (insert that’s what she said joke here), I would rather just allow you to use your own imagination.


Day 113, I’m a woman. Of course I saw Magic Mike opening weekend with a group of 14 or so friends. Obviously, we all loved it. My only complaint is that there wasn’t enough Matt Bomer. You can never have enough of perfection. Day 114, this is what the side of my parents’ pool looks like when my four year old nephew goes over to swim. We have more water guns than total members of our extended family.


Day 115, as a graphic designer, I have a really hard time sticking with one blog design. I get sick of it after about two or three weeks and decide it’s time for a re-design. I can’t help it. It’s ingrained into my DNA. I’m actually surprised this design is still currently on the blog as of this post. No promises if you check back in a week. Day 116, this is what my office parking lot looked like the day before the July 4th holiday. I was literally the last person there. I guess it’s because I’m just such a hard worker. Yeah, we’ll go with that one.


Day 117, Happy 4th of July! I celebrated with friends, family, lots of hyper children, BBQ, enough random dips & appetizers to feed a small army and of course some Coors Light encased in my Alma Mater. Hail State! Day 118, every time I paint, I use the same acrylic art palette to mix all my colors. When the paint starts to get too thick and clumpy and distracting, I simply scrape it off with a razor blade and it’s like I have a brand new palette. By the look of it right now, it’s about time for a scraping. Oh, and apparently, the last thing I painted was the color of diarrhea. Either that, or Mulligan (seen here lounging in the background) is very sneaky.


Day 119, this was the week my sister went out of town to visit friends in Nashville and took the terror puppy with her. Similar to the previous picture, Mulligan reveled in his unlimited freedom. He finally got rid of the slobbery hyper thing with big paws and rank breath (not you, Kristen)! I don’t think he was very pleased when Maddie trotted back in after only a week. Day 120, whenever my mom has dinner/evening plans that don’t involve my dad, my sister and I take him out so he won’t end up sitting at home with a Hungry Man Dinner or a chicken pot pie. With Kristen gone, I ended up taking him to Genghis Grill so he could escape the ladies night of daiquiris and wine taking place in his kitchen. I cherish my father-daughter date nights and I think he was very thankful.


Day 121, I love my lazy Sundays. Lazy Sundays without the puppy dropping slobbery duck squeaker toys and rubber tug of war rings in my lap every five minutes? Perfection. Mulligan agrees. Day 122, I got my latest book from Barnes & Noble in the mail: Gillian Flynn’s GONE GIRL. I can’t say enough how ridiculously awesome this book is. If you’re tired of the poorly written mommy porn currently sitting atop the Bestseller list, go out and buy this book. Immediately. Beautiful writing, real characters, humor, suspense, shocking twists & turns that manipulate and guide you thru this amazing story…if I hear another person rave about 50 Shades of Suck, I will smack them atop the head with Gillian Flynn’s masterpiece of a novel. At 415 pages, it’s a pretty hefty hardcover, so watch out. Read it.


Day 123, have you heard my sister and I have a booth at the 2012 Cooper Young Festival? I’ve been working non-stop designing some typography prints to sell. Here, I made a Cooper-Young specific typography “city print” full of places and things around my wonderful neighborhood. It’s listed in my Etsy shop here and I’ve blogged about it before here. September 15th can’t come soon enough. Day 124, since I was planning on opening up an Etsy shop and needed new business cards for the art festival (and because I call myself a graphic designer), I figured it was time to get serious about creating myself a personal logo. I’ve toyed around with various designs in the past, but could never decide or stick with one (cough, like my blog design, cough). I think I’ve finally found one I really like. It incorporates my initials (LEA), my art (paintbrush) and my writing (scroll pen tip). Hopefully, I’ll be able to stick with this one for a while.


Day 125, I officially launched my Etsy Shop. Thank you everyone for the wonderful feedback and please keep shopping :). Day 126, ah…the terror puppy. The cute-adorable-little-devil that recently chewed up my fairly new Toms. I’ve written before about Maddie’s talent for tapping out SOS messages on our back door (go here). For some reason, she thinks the only way to get our attention to let her inside is to jump like a track star and fling her entire body into our glass door. I mean, why go with a simple bark when you can display your olympian level high jump skills? Why go for a simple scratch of the paw when you can leap high enough to collide the entire underside of your body with the door? She’s so talented. Are there puppy olympics? Because I volunteer Maddie for the High Jump. And if there is a category for Who has the hardest body of puppy steel, I volunteer her for that one, too. Bring home the gold, Maddie.


That’s 16 and done. Since I’m currently on day 146, I’ve got more Project 365 on the way this week. Stay tuned!

– lindsey archer

stranger danger

I’m not good at networking. At all. Like, I’m horribly, shockingly dreadful at it. So, naturally, the idea of attending a writers conference all by my lonesome scares the shit out of me.

Do I think it would be good for me? Benefit me tremendously? Widen my literary connections? Sharpen my writing skills? All of the above.

It still scares the shit out of me.

It’s the whole fear of being thrown into a room full of people I don’t know and being forced to socialize with them syndrome (FOBTIARFOPIDKABFTSWTS). Despite what you think, it’s actually very common. I wouldn’t be surprised if it had its own WebMD page. You know…right next to the how to turn your common cold symptoms into ‘You Only Have One Week To Live’ page.

I’m good with tweeting and texting and everything else the older generation spits on my generation for in terms of communicating. I mean, who isn’t comfortable with allowing technology to talk for them? It’s when you stick me in a room with complete strangers that I freeze up and turn into a crazy mute person. I revert back to my days of infancy when I had yet to learn any communication skills other than crying and defecating into a diaper.

See, growing up, you’re always told by adults to not talk to strangers. It’s dangerous. Wrong. DON’T DO IT. STRANGER DANGER! STRANGER DANGER! They program that shit into your head. Then, you start school and those same adults leave you alone in a room full of strangers and tell you to go have fun and turn them into friends. I mean…where’s the consistency? If I’m not supposed to even talk to strangers, why the Hell are you trying to make me become friends with them all of a sudden? What happened to stranger danger? I don’t know any of these people! Why are you abandoning me here???!?

I blame this for why I freeze up around new people. I was just such well behaved child and followed everything my parents taught me (Momma, stop laughing).

It’s not that I’m socially awkward per se, but rather socially hit or miss. Once I get going—alcohol always helps—I can talk for hours. It’s the get going that I have trouble with all too often. I call it the stranger bitch effect (SBE). As in, when people sometimes first meet me, I tend to come across as a little bit of a bitch. When really, it’s my inability to function normally around strangers in combination with what my sister and close friends refer to as my natural bitch face that tends to screw up that coveted first impression. I apologize. I can’t help it if my default expression lacks roses and rainbows. I try to be conscious of it, but then I end up with this weird, creepy, fake smile—which I can assure you is way scarier than the aforementioned stink-eye face.

I am getting better, which was evident at the recent MPACT Happy Hour I attended at Alchemy last week. I actually talked to people, networked a little, gave out at least one business card, gained a new FB friend…yes, alcohol was involved (we’re talking a few drinks here, I’m not a lush). I also had my sister there as back-up, something I won’t have at a writers conference.

So, yeah, back to writers conferences…the whole point of this post. While I am scared out of my mind at attending one of these solo, I’m not going to let that fear deter me from experiencing one. I just needed to talk about it a little bit. You know…get it off my chest, get it out into the open to all you other writers out there. So that when you happen to run into some random girl at your next writers conference who you notice keeps looking around with this crazy bitch expression frozen on her face…you’ll actually come up and say hello.

Really. I would love to meet you.

– lindsey archer

PS – I have no idea which conference I am going to attend, just that I will be going to one sometime in the next calendar year. If you have any recommendations for a newbie writer like me, please let me know! There are so many out there. I seriously need all the help I can get.

from blah to writing

It’s been one of those weeks.

A few bright spots have been sprinkled in here and there, but it’s just been one of those weeks where all these little things seemed to have built up, stacking pressure upon pressure until it feels like whatever it is that’s holding me together will rip at the seams with one more slight push. Like an old, creaky chair whose screws are loose, the next time someone sits down, the legs will give out and the chair will collapse into a heap of splintered wood.

Listen to me. I sound like my entire world is crashing down around me. It’s really not that dramatic. More like, it’s been a week where the smallest thing feels a thousand pounds heavier than it should. I’m not explaining it very well, am I? It’s just…blah. Like when you’re sick and everything hurts and the slightest moment can send your emotions into overdrive. My emotions feel like they’re on speed. High strung.

And you know what all this makes me want to do? More than anything, it makes me want to write.

Why is that? Why is it that at times I feel my worst are the times I feel the strongest pull to write? Like, somehow, writing will release all this built up pressure and I’ll go back to normal. Like when you poke a tiny hole in the soft area of a balloon to let the air seep out slowly, you eventually end up with the same shape as before you inflated it with your hot air. Whereas if you straight out pop its surface, the pieces of the balloon scatter—unrecognizable strips of rubber permanently torn apart.

When I’m happy and content, writing seems an afterthought. When I’m sad or not feeling fully myself, writing feels like this need. My sad feelings seem to translate into better writing material than my happy ones. Does that make me a writing stereotype?

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
—Ernest Hemingway

When I first started writing Jaded, I wasn’t in a very good place. I was sad and dealing with a lot and writing became this sort of therapy. An escape. A way to throw all my feelings into something productive. Somehow, somewhere along the way of writing my first novel, I started feeling better. I became myself again. Like I’ve previously mentioned, I never intended to write a novel. I wrote small scenes and random conversations that turned themselves into pages and chapters and eventually…a book.

Now Jaded’s completed and I feel like I’ve lost my outlet. Yes, I have that lovely NaNoWriMo piece that desperately needs work. But, I’ve promised myself I won’t touch that manuscript until I get Jaded in the hands of agents.

That means finishing my query letter. I’m not much further along on that than I was two months ago. I do have more than an opening sentence, though. I actually have a full, working draft—albeit a rather rough one. It’s nowhere near where I need it to be. I guess it’s a start. Better than nothing, right?

Does anyone else go thru this? Do you write better when you’re happy or when you’re strung out and feeling…blah? What state of mind are you in when you produce your best material?

Here’s to hoping my blah week turns into something productive. Who knows? This time next week, I might have a working query letter.

– lindsey archer

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